


tidal wave

by judlane



Series: neil is horny [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Clothed Sex, Coming Untouched, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judlane/pseuds/judlane
Summary: Sex was never really a prominent need on Neil’s list for survival.Until he saw what Andrew looked naked and in-between Neil’s thighs.





	tidal wave

**Author's Note:**

> ... i have never seriously written sex before so pls... dont come for my throat lmao  
>  i'm making a new series called 'neil is horny' and i'm down for any prompts!!  
> lemme know if there are any mistakes!

Sex was never really a prominent need on Neil’s list of survival.

That mostly consisted of whispered urgencies at the back of his mind, all in his mother’s low tone, telling him to _act normal, run, don’t look back, don’t stay._

Having sex just - wasn’t a priority.

So the first time him and Andrew finally have the Columbia house to themselves and they’ve moved past handjobs and blowjobs, and Andrew has even allowed Neil to explore his own body, albeit slowly with frequent hitches, they take advantage of it. It’s different than the other times Neil has mapped out his body.

Andrew’s biceps are the darkest part of his body, thanks to the exposed space between his tight shirts and armbands. His shoulders are wide and rounded, his back a long expanse of hard muscle and shifting strength. His stomach is softer, like his thighs, put Neil knows if he would to press he’d meet the same amount of muscle just like the rest Andrew’s body.

Sex was never really prominent need - until he saw what Andrew looked naked and in-between Neil’s thighs.

And before he got fucked.

That night in Columbia had been slow and daunting and was more of two men trying to fit their jagged pieces together in a corkscrew puzzle. There were more kisses than actual fucking and neither of them came, but Andrew had given Neil permission to experience something ethereal with him. He had held Neil down with soft hands and an almost angry expression and pressed _inside_ , and Neil was gone.

So now sex was all Neil could think about.

In the gym, when Andrew was deadlifting and his biceps flexed, sweat sliding down his throat. In the dorm, Andrew reading a book. In the cafeteria, his tray overflowing with the dessert selection instead of any real substance much to Kevin’s chagrin.

Anything and everything Andrew did made Neil want to experience that first night in Columbia all over again, several times over, as frequently as possible. It even got to the point that Neil was debating if he’d choose having sex with Andrew over Exy practice, and no matter how much reasoning he did with himself, considering Exy was his ticket to staying alive, Andrew came out on top.

Neil tries to hide it, especially when Andrew is in close proximity. The urges that swell up in the pit of Neil’s stomach are like a betrayal of consent. Andrew hasn’t given him permission to think about him like Neil does, so he tries to stem the feelings with other distractions like school or Exy, but never Andrew’s body.

When they manage to catch a small break, they use it wisely to get each other off, but Neil can’t help wanting more. He wants Andrew on top of him again, inside of him, wants his soft kisses and wide hands skimming over Neil’s simmering skin. He wants the sheets to stick with sweat and the bed to creak.

Arousal and guilt are never a good mix. He gets hard thinking about it, but never jerks off. Masturbation is a betrayal to Andrew - he needs permission to do something like that, especially when it comes to the images Neil conjures up.

He needs to get over this. It’s just something new so he’s transfixed on it, Neil knows that. He needs to wait it out. For all he knows, it could have been a one time thing.

So that’s exactly what he’s trying to do at the moment. He tries to focus in on the math equation he’s meant to solve for homework instead of the boner throbbing against his thigh. Not thinking about Andrew’s chest against his. Not Andrew’s low growl in the back of his throat when he had pressed inside. Not Andrew -

Neil throws his pencil in frustration. He just _can’t stop thinking about Andrew._

“Well that was childish.”

Andrew steps into the room and slides his bookbag off, face uncaring. Neil hurriedly scoots his chair closer to the desk in hopes of hiding his erection.

“I’ve been working on this problem for an hour,” Neil replies, which is true, but not for the reasons Andrew thinks.

Andrew raises a brow and goes to recline on the dorm bed, pulling out his phone and tapping at the screen. Silence settles over them which Neil knows shouldn’t be awkward, but the boner tenting the front of his sweatpants begs to differ. He reaches for his pencil - only to realize he’s tossed it away and now lays halfway across the dorm in front of Andrew.

That was his last pencil.

Andrew will know if something is up if Neil is sitting and not doing anything, especially in front of math.

“Andrew,” Neil starts and then has to clear his throat. The heat of a flush creeps at the base of his throat. “Can you hand me my pencil?”

Andrew looks up from his phone, to Neil, the pencil on ground, and then back to Neil. His gaze slides over Neil’s awkwardly turned body, front twisted but lower half stubbornly hidden. The sound of the phone hitting the soft bed sounds like a gunshot.

Anticipation curls hotly between Neil’s ribs and presses against his sternum, making it hard to breathe as he watches Andrew regard him.

“Why don’t you come pick it up yourself, Neil?”

His voice is low and deep, eyes half-lidded and intense.

Neil could easily put a stop to this. Explain his situation in hopes that Andrew would understand. But instead he finds himself slowly standing up from his chair, face reddened with embarrassment and arousal.

Andrew’s gaze intensifies as he eyes Neil’s situation, reclining back onto his hands. He stretches out a socked foot and pins the pencil on the floor underneath it.

If Neil gets any harder, he’s going to explode. And not in the good sense.

Time slows down as Neil crosses the floor to stand in front of Andrew.

“Yes or no, Neil?”

“Yes.”

“Lock the door.”

Neil nearly trips over himself as he hurries to lock the dorm door, hands shaking only a little and erection pulsating in his pants. When he turns back around, Andrew is pulling out lube and a condom from his bag. His eyes are dark when he looks to Neil.

“Get on the bed.”

This time Neil does trip over his own two feet, but quickly lunges onto the bed and rolls onto his back, chest heaving. His clothes feel too tight, too hot against his shivering skin.

Andrew kneels at the foot of the bed and slowly puts his hand on one of Neil’s knees, pushing it up until it’s flush to his chest. Neil moves to wrap an arm around it, to keep it in place, but Andrew bats his hand away. Before Neil can whine or ask for clarification, Andrew shifts forward on his knees until his groin is pressed against Neil’s ass.

A jolt ripples through Neil’s body at the hardness in Andrew’s pants.

  
He wants to roll his hips back, press his thighs together to get some relief, ask Andrew to press him down with his body. He wants everything and anything that Andrew is willing to give.

“Have you cleaned yourself?” Andrew asks, voice low and sultry. It takes a moment for Neil to find his voice.

“Yes,” he replies. He doesn’t mention since that night in Columbia he’s taken to cleaning himself almost every day in some hope that Andrew will want a repeat.

Andrew’s jaw clenches, works for a moment, and then rocks his erection into the clothed cleft of Neil’s ass. It’s a phantom touch, not enough friction but the message is clear. The question hangs in the air between the two of them, and Neil nods, hard and fast because he wants this, he wants Andrew.

“Clothes. Off.”

Neil nearly kicks Andrew in the head as he yanks his sweatpants off and then pulls his shirt over his head. Andrew shoots him a dark look, ruined by his flushed cheeks, and shifts back to unzip his jeans. The sight of Andrew’s hands disappearing into his briefs makes Neil’s lower half squirm in reflex.

Hands wrap around his hips and still him. “I’m going to finger you. And then I’m going to fuck you. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil gasps, “ _yes_ , Andrew.”

The kisses they exchange are hot and needy, tongues in mouths and bitten lips. Neil fists the sheets to keep his hands from reaching out and Andrew smothers him with his body, hips rocking minutely into Neil’s, his jeans rough on Neil’s sensitive skin.

Andrew pulls a breath away. “You can take my shirt off. No touching below the waist.”

With a low groan, Neil grabs the hem of Andrew’s dark shirt and yanks it over his head. Once it’s been discarded, he pulls Andrew down to resume their kissing, even more aware of the chest against his.

They kiss for a few moments, grounding themselves in the reassurance of each other, that it’s them, no one else, before Andrew moves to press his mouth into the corner of Neil’s jaw. Hands skirt down Neil’s abdomen to the front of his quivering thighs and then to the underside of his knees. Andrew pushes them up until Neil is folded in on himself, completely exposed and the hardest he’s ever been in his life.

“I’m going to finger you now,” Andrew growls, eyes hungry.

  
Neil has to reach between their bodies to grip the base of his dick harshly so he doesn’t come.

Andrew stares at him for a long moment, either drinking in the sight or simply looking for any discomfort, before sitting up and reaching behind himself to grab bottle of lube. He pops the cap and coats his fingers and tosses it away, returning his attention solely on Neil.

“Keep your legs up,” Andrew says and presses a finger to Neil’s entrance. The cold gel startles him for a moment, but the anticipation for what’s to happen next wins out over any mild discomforts.

Andrew presses in and punches a low groan out of Neil.

This is what he’s been wanting. And from Andrew’s jaw ticking, he’s been wanting it too.

Andrew’s fingers stretch him thoroughly, a poor imitation for what Neil really wants, but it’s enough to have him whining softly. His legs feel like jelly from where their folded up to his chest and his hands skirt from gripping Andrew’s shoulders to his hair, tugging him down until Neil can press open mouthed kisses to his chin and jaw.

“Feels good,” he whispers into the coarse stubble on the underside of Andrew’s chin and doesn’t miss the way his chest hitches slightly. Andrew curls his fingers up, hard, and rubs insistently. The first few swipes are off course, but on his fifth rotation, he grazes against something that has Neil lurching off the bed and burying a groan into Andrew’s neck.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Neil whimpers. He can feel his orgasm building, a tidal wave rearing back, but then Andrew pulls his fingers out and the force loses his momentum. “Andrew- your jeans-”

The condom tearing open kills Neil’s desperate observation.

Andrew rolls it onto himself, cock hard from where it hangs out of his open jeans and briefs, and then looks up at Neil, folded in on himself and flushed from his ears to his navel.

“Yes or no?”

Affection lulls the hot burning of arousal in Neil, and he reaches out to ghost his fingers down Andrew’s sternum, eliciting a small shudder.

“Yes,” Neil murmurs and Andrew plants both of his hands on either side of his head and captures his mouth. They kiss long and slow, like they did back in the Columbia house, all hot breath and tongue and small murmurs of nonsense, mostly output from Neil’s muddled brain.

Andrew’s cock is much thicker and wider than his blunt fingers, but it satisfies a desire deep within Neil himself as it presses it in.  
Andrew repositions Neil’s legs so they’re over his shoulders and Neil’s hips are pulled from the bed and into his lap. Neil lets his hands slide over Andrew’s chest to his stomach and then rests safely on his flanks, feeling the muscles contract as he rocks in and out, burying himself deeper each time. The rasp of his jeans against the back of Neil’s thighs is a new sensation that makes him moan and dig his fingers in deeper.

Neil’s small noises encourage Andrew, who is once fully seated at the hilt, draws all the way back and plows back in with a newfound force.

“Fuck!” Neil rasps, scrambling. “Fuck - _again_ -”

Andrew never lets him finish his plea. He wraps his thick arms around Neil’s thighs, lifting him higher and at an angle, and slams back in. The dorm bed beneath them creaks.

The sound of flesh on flesh reverberates in the room, a symphony among the springs and Neil groaning, peppered with Andrew’s occasional grunt. Pleasure sings through Neil and curls his toes inwards and locks his body up tight like a bow drawn tight. His cock slaps wetly against his abdomen with each thrust from Andrew, but the thought of touching himself is a far off afterthought at the moment.

All he can think about is Andrew, plunging into him, the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead, the deep furrow between his eyebrows, his burning eyes as he stares at Neil.

Neil could come like this, just being fucked and nothing else. He could come just from watching Andrew.

“Andrew, fuck, Andrew I’m going to-”

Andrew drops his legs from around his shoulders and moves to blanket Neil’s body with his own, chest to chest, pressed flush. He slides his arms underneath Neil’s shoulders and wraps them up and around. His calloused palms skate on either side of Neil’s neck, thumbs digging into the corners of his jaws. From this angle Andrew can’t retract as far, but he’s still rolling his hips in, undulating and unraveling Neil at the seams. The back of Neil’s thighs are going to be scraped to all hell from the friction of fabric on skin, but right now he could care less.

Neil mimics Andrew’s position, knees up on either side of his hips and arms wrapped around the backside of his shoulders, fingers digging into the working muscles there. He lets his moans out freely into the damp curls of blonde hair and presses wet kisses to a flushed ear.

Neil comes when Andrew bites down hard over his collarbone and rubs his cock just over that sweet spot inside. It isn’t like the tidal wave from before, more like a gradual buildup that plateaued and then slowly faded away. His body shakes from the aftershocks and Andrew shushes him by licking into his mouth.

Andrew pulls away just enough to slide his cock free, leaving Neil opened and exposed. He yanks the condom off and fists his cock loosely. It just takes a few pulls for him to get off, adding to the mess on Neil’s stomach.

Head dropping onto the pillow next to Neil’s, Andrew smothers a deep growl.

Neil could get hard again within moments if Andrew kept making that noise.

“Okay?” Neil asks instead, because it’s a question that needs to be asked after something like that.

Andrew breathes out heavily and rolls onto his side. “I’m not the one who got fucked in the ass.”

Neil rolls his eyes and reaches out a hand to run his fingers through Andrew’s hair. He’s quiet for a few minutes before speaking up again. “I really liked it.”

“Glad to know.”

“It was really good.”

“Shut up.”

“I want to do it again.”

“Was that what you were thinking about before?”

“Yes,” Neil admits, “I think about it all the time. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Andrew’s jaw clenches. “Why would you?”

“Because you haven’t given me permission to think about you like that.”

A hand settles heavy over Neil’s eyes, and he lets it, and just listens to Andrew’s slowly recovering breathing. A kiss presses to his cheekbone.

“The answer is yes.”

Shuddering, Neil turns his head, still blinded, and seeks out Andrew’s lips, licking and sucking his way in. Exhaustion is settling in quickly and his limbs feel like jello, plus they still need to get cleaned up, but at least he has this. He hopes he can always have this.

**Author's Note:**

> if u can find my pun in this, i love you :)  
> catch ur boy on [tumblr](http://sevenyearsdead.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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